


Investigations

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Quintesson Verse [3]
Category: Transformers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-09
Updated: 2011-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz yearns for what escapes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Investigations

It had been a relatively successful investigation run, Jazz thought to himself as he moved around the outer edge of the emptied courtyard, his usually brilliant paint covered with the dull brick-red of this House’s servitors -- such a simple thing as a change of paint rendered him more than invisible to the scientifically-oriented Quintesson that ruled here. It was useful to his purposes, but it was almost insulting to have so little of his programming and training be necessary. He had been made for stealth and sabotage in the endless war of duplicity and confrontation that seemed to be the way of life of their makers, and as such, imbued with what most other Quintessons would have seen as far too much self-awareness. That very self-awareness had been used to keep him chained to their purposes, and it kept a hot, sharp fury burning in his central core. On the surface, he kept that fury turned towards his master’s targets... which was less than half true.

The Quintesson that was his current target was involved with the study of a new flying mech, and from the few murmurs of talk between the mechs of the House, was paying little attention to other concerns. There was always the possibility that one face might be more aware of the outside world than the group was presenting, but from his watching over the last several cycles, he thought it unlikely. Most of the faces seemed fascinated by their newest experiment -- obvious from recent events. There had been an incident a few breems earlier, the flier had damaged itself and been taken to be repaired. That made this as good a time as any he had had recently to slip out and report to his own master and House. One of these cycles, he was going to disappear during one of these runs… but first he had to figure out how to deactivate the programming that would render him an inert derelict if he was gone from his master’s presence too long. He had yet to solve that puzzle, and he seethed at the realization again.

This courtyard was an extravagance, placed high above the fortified tower’s foundations and using floors and floors of possible space to open to the sky... but from all of his time spying for the House that had built and programmed him, Jazz had learned well that they cared little for extravagance when it suited some portion of their whims. He was headed towards his exit when a crash hit his audios -- immediately followed by the unmistakable, rarely-heard sound of a full transformation. He whipped around, staring up, as he saw the same flier that had recently damaged himself starting up powerful afterburners and taking off into the high atmosphere and the distance.

He heard the House communications band flaring with transmissions, confusion obvious in the sheer number of them, but he could not bring his optics down from the sight of that silver and red frame streaking rapidly into the air and away, out over the production factories and into one of the empty regions… his entire core ached, seeing that flight to -- at least a temporary -- freedom. He ached to be able to follow that flight, to make one of his own, to be _rid_ of the invisible tether that fettered him to his master’s House, and it made all his intake filters tighten with the hurt.

He wanted that ability -- not the wings, he loved his wheels -- but he yearned, more than anything, to be able to roll without the ever-present leash bringing him back again and again to the same place, to the same function…

The communications intensified in frequency and he turned away from watching that distant speck, realizing that something must have happened to his target for that mech to have been freed. He started to move towards the repair bays, to investigate and take the report back, before his master learned of events by other means and they decided he was no longer useful.


End file.
